


Observing a Werewolf in the Wild

by MeanwhileMelody



Series: The Science of Sourwolves [1]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: An ode to the crocodile hunter, Derek is a class all his own, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Stiles is a werewolf expert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:46:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5396462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeanwhileMelody/pseuds/MeanwhileMelody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles may not have a PhD in werewolf sociology, but sometimes, the study of these majestic, albeit very grumpy werewolves is best done in their natural habitat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Observing a Werewolf in the Wild

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iMOCKusALL](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iMOCKusALL/gifts).



> Comment and ye shall receive.

“And here we have the Alpha werewolf, genus sourwolfus growlificus. Watch as this amazing creature corners it’s prey, with advanced hunting methods. First, the alpha locates it’s dinner using only it’s strong sense of smell and the many take out menu’s stored in it’s kitchen. And then it travels miles and miles- ten, to be exact, in a flashy sports car that warns other predators in the area that, indeed, he is the Alpha, the apex predator. Soon, the prey is snared in a paper bag, and savagely feasted upon, leaving the werewolf covered in-“

“One more word, Stiles. Go ahead. One more word.” Self consciously, Derek swiped a hand over his mouth, trying to thumb off the ketchup clinging to the corner of his lips. Stiles laughed brightly, leaned forward, and did it for him. “A magnificent beast, even when covered in the gore of a vicious feeding such as today.” He continued, his voice full of bravado, and his smile full of mischief. 

“The werewolf’s feeding habits are not it’s only features of interest. It is also an animal of great strength and grace- unless it is confronted with it’s natural enemy. Dance Dance revolution. In which case, the Alpha Werewolf will most assuredly lose. Both the game, and it’s pride.”

If Derek’s glare got any harder, he’d be shooting through Stiles with laser eyes. “That was one time.” Mostly because after that one, horrific attempt at the game, which Derek was positive was designed by the devil himself, Derek never touched it again. If Stiles wasn’t so protective of it, it would be smashed into little pieces and sent back to the hell from whence it came.

“Now, I’m going to get a bit closer here, folks. Moving slowly, so I don’t alarm the beast. Watch, as his nostrils flare. This is how the Alpha werewolf scents. Scenting is a practice in which the werewolf is nosy, literally, and snoops into a human’s private business by smelling their entire day on them. Slowly now. Slowly.” 

Stiles was easing closer to Derek, step by step around the table. He was right. Derek could smell his day on him. The old book smell of the library, the faint touch of Scott’s scent. They’d been studying together. Oil clinging to his hands, which meant that Roscoe, Stiles’ baby, was acting up again. Derek would have to give the car a fine tuning for him, later, once the kid wasn’t mocking him mercilessly.  
Weight and warmth settled over Derek as Stiles nudged into his lap. “He’s a beaut, isn’t he?” Stiles asked their imaginary audience, voice soft and fond. “A purebred specimen, look at the way the hair spikes up, and the rabbit like teeth. Bunny teeth are a sure sign of a Sourwolf Growlificus. Now, if I’m very quiet, he may just let me touch him.”

Snorting over the very notion of Stiles being quiet, ever, Derek sat still and allowed Stiles to run his hands through his hair gently. His Australian accent was horrible, and grating, and if he said Crikey, even once, Derek was planning on dumping him on the floor. He allowed himself to gently lean back into Stiles’ warm, roaming hands, all the same. The human might be a brat, but his fingers were long and dexterous and when they rubbed at Derek’s temples, he let out a low sound of contentment.

“Ah! What a treat. That, everyone, is the sound that a werewolf makes only when touched by a potential mate. The mating habits, of this particular breed of wolf, are complex and intricate. Ranging from a courtship involving displays of strength, such as pushing their chosen mate up against a wall, or skulking outside their school and home. Once they have earned the trust and approval of said mate, however, these wolves are loyal, and gentle creatures, who remember coffee orders and pay for dinner.”

As ridiculous as Stiles was, Derek couldn’t help smiling for him, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics, refusing to say a single word, and give Stiles the satisfaction of knowing that he either riled him up, or made him feel that warm, happy glow in his stomach, reserved only for when his human was so close.

“They are foolish creatures, however, who remain oblivious for years to the returned affection of their chosen mates. They are so slow on the uptake, in fact, that they do not kiss their mates, even when they are sitting in this Alpha’s lap, prime for the smooching. I cannot fathom how this werewolf manages to keep it’s mate at all, with such behavior-“ 

Lunging forward, Derek took Stiles’ mouth in a kiss that started out hard and passionate, as a sort of rebuke for Stiles’ words. But then, as he always did, he softened with Stiles, and their lips moved together lazily, a gentle give and take, with Stiles’ hands in his hair, and Derek’s arms wrapped around his waist, drawing him close and keeping him there. “I buy you curly fries and milkshakes with your burger, that’s how I keep you.” He informed the boy. Indeed, Stiles’ mouth still tasted of cold chocolate and fryer grease.

Impertinent as always, Stiles took his lower lip between his teeth and nipped gently, before letting go. “But this creature, this Alpha werewolf, is one of the most amazing animals in the known world. And he is loved so strongly by his mate, that he will never have any other. Even if he stops courting said mate by hunting him down his favored treats.”

Later, in bed, as Derek was tracing down Stiles’ naked back, playing connect the dots with the constellations of moles that spanned across his moon pale skin, he heaved the boy closer, and whispered in his ear.

“Here we have the Stiles, Scrawnius sarcasticus, in the wild. It is a cunning creature, with the ability to do almost anything. Proficient at the art of deep internet research, a place all others in the animal kingdom fear, and a scavenger, never content with what is on his plate, instead picking the best bites off of others- This amazing, wild human is able to do something so extraordinary, no other animal could ever do the same.”

One amber gold eye peeks open, and looked up at Derek, and in a sleepy, wrung out voice, he asks: “Oh yeah? And what is that, exactly?”

“He can make an Alpha werewolf fall in love with him so deeply he can’t imagine a life without him. He can become this Alpha’s whole world.” 

Slightly chapped lips pressed against Derek’s neck, and then his shoulder, turned up in a smile. “I love you too, Derek. Forever.”

The ring in their sock drawer seemed like it would be a success more and more every day.


End file.
